Chapter 26

Lu Tingchao overslept the next morning.

Mo Lingnan hadn't woken him, nor had his bedside phone vibrated. By the time Lu Tingchao woke naturally, the sun was already high.

Lu Tingchao checked the time—11:30 AM.

Then he remembered his appointment with the director—9:30 AM.

Lu Tingchao: "..."

His WeChat message list was filled with the director's increasingly desperate pleas and Su Ningyu's inquiries after arriving. The last message was from Fei Xiuqi, sent just moments ago.

"Heard you divorced that chauvinist pig. Where are you? I'll come pick you up?"

Lu Tingchao: "..."

This wasn’t the first time Lu Tingchao had heard Fei Xiuqi refer to Zhuang Ji that way.

Lying on Mo Lingnan’s bed in the master bedroom, he seriously looked up the meaning of "chauvinist pig," then messaged Fei Xiuqi.

Lu Tingchao: "He's not really a chauvinist pig. That sounds too harsh."

Fei Xiuqi: "Oh, then let’s just call him a dumbass."

Lu Tingchao: "..."

Fei Xiuqi: "Forget about him. BB, it’s too hot in North City. Devin just invested in a new aquatic resort in Hong Kong—it hasn’t officially opened yet. I’ll take you there to have some fun, okay?"

Lu Tingchao: "No, I have work."

Fei Xiuqi: "The dating show wraps up this week. How about we go next week?"

Lu Tingchao: "No, I have to keep working next week."

Fei Xiuqi: "..."

Fei Xiuqi said: "Chao Chao, I’m just as rich as that chauvinist pig, you know. Let’s not work. Didn’t you say you don’t like working anyway?"

Lu Tingchao: "Ah..."

Well, he wasn’t wrong.

Fei Xiuqi was right—Lu Tingchao really didn’t like working.

But he couldn’t just keep freeloading at Mo Lingnan’s place using Zhuang Ji’s money forever...

Lu Tingchao pouted in frustration. "Don’t worry about it, no need to pick me up. I’ll head over soon. Can you let the director know I’ll be there in the afternoon?"

Fei Xiuqi replied with something else, but Lu Tingchao didn’t see it.

The door to the master bedroom opened.

Mo Lingnan was already dressed in going-out clothes—a khaki-colored ensemble paired with gold-rimmed glasses, giving him a distinctly married man aura.

Mo Lingnan walked to the bedside, reached out, and lifted Lu Tingchao from the bed. "Awake now?"

"Yeah..."

Perhaps it was because the man’s well-built muscles were honed from actual use, but Lu Tingchao always felt that Mo Lingnan handled him with effortless grace, whether carrying him or performing other actions.

For instance, right now, Lu Tingchao was sitting in the crook of Mo Lingnan’s arm, in a carry reminiscent of holding a child.

Lu Tingchao caught sight of himself and Mo Lingnan in the full-length mirror by the bed.

Suddenly, he blushed—a rare occurrence—and turned his face away.

"What’s wrong?"

Mo Lingnan, perhaps intentionally, carried Lu Tingchao all the way to the mirror and suddenly said, "Chao Chao, look at your ankle."

Lu Tingchao: "Huh?"

Most of the time, Lu Tingchao was an obedient kid. He obediently looked down as Mo Lingnan asked—then saw several bite marks left on his ankle.

Lu Tingchao: "..."

Lu Tingchao froze.

Adding to his embarrassment, Mo Lingnan’s free hand reached down and gently stroked his ankle, then the man’s lips pressed against it for a kiss. "There are some on your toes too."

Lu Tingchao: "Ahhhh!"

Lu Tingchao writhed desperately in Mo Lingnan’s arms, flailing his limbs in an attempt to escape. "Mo Lingnan, you’re a pervert! You’re insane!"

"Maybe I am."

Mo Lingnan readily accepted Lu Tingchao’s accusation, retrieving a pill from the side table and placing it in Lu Tingchao’s mouth. "Let it dissolve for a bit. Your voice is nearly shot, poor baby."

Lu Tingchao swallowed tearfully and aimed a kick at Mo Lingnan. "It’s so bitter, you freak."

Mo Lingnan caught Lu Tingchao’s foot. "Little liar, I tasted it—it’s not bitter. Just take it properly. Don’t you have to go film the show today?"

Unable to break free and afraid the man would bully him further, Lu Tingchao acquiesced and whispered, "Mo Lingnan, do you watch those variety shows?"

Mo Lingnan: "Almost never."

He replied bluntly: "Does Chao Chao want me to watch? I can."

"No, no! Some trashy low-brow reality show isn’t worth Director Mo’s time!" Lu Tingchao said, with a subtle sarcastic emphasis on "Director Mo."

Excited, Lu Tingchao began kicking his feet playfully, bouncing slightly in Mo Lingnan’s arms. "I’ll only be filming for two days, then I’ll be back. Let’s have hotpot this weekend!"

Lu Tingchao’s already loose pajamas rubbed against Mo Lingnan, gradually bunching up layer by layer until a significant portion was revealed.

Mo Lingnan reached out and gripped the hem of his pajamas, his gaze intensifying.

"Sure. We’ll make a mild broth for our little DouDou."

Mo Lingnan pinned Lu Tingchao against the full-length mirror.

The mirror behind him was cold, but the man on the other side was scorching hot.

He effortlessly lifted Lu Tingchao’s ankle. "What kind of broth would Chao Chao baby like?"

The carpet in the master bedroom was thick and soft.

Lu Tingchao sensed trouble and, like a carp leaping out of water, twisted free and slipped away from Mo Lingnan. "Chao Chao baby wants spicy beef tallow broth, extra spicy! Mo Lingnan, don’t move—I’ll go get your tie!"

"Alright."

Mo Lingnan's searing gaze, hot enough to burn skin, remained intently fixed on Lu Tingchao, watching the desperately struggling little figure fluttering toward the wardrobe, then coming bouncing back—

And then.

A powerful arm reached down from above and took the tie from Lu Tingchao's hand.

Lu Tingchao: "Ah...!"

"It seems Chao Chao really likes this color of tie."

Mo Lingnan pinned Lu Tingchao's hands against the mirror, speaking softly, "But darling, you once picked a similar color for Zhuang Ji too. That upsets me."

Lu Tingchao squirmed like a little fish pressed against the mirror, struggling left and right, trying his best to defend himself: "Nonsense, it's clearly not the same style..."

The tie wrapped around Lu Tingchao's own eyes.

Mo Lingnan then kissed him rather roughly: "Fine, I'll give Mr. Lu Tingchao one chance to appeal."

Lu Tingchao’s body, encircled in his arms, shuddered.

So Mo Lingnan continued to torment him while asking: "Where shall I kiss next?"

Lu Tingchao’s voice shook: "Kiss, kiss the mouth, kiss the mouth!"

"The mouth's already been kissed. Wrong. That's minus one point."

Mo Lingnan’s tone sounded regretful, making his actions even more infuriating.

He soothingly stroked Lu Tingchao’s hair: "Last chance, what do you call me?"

Lu Tingchao could no longer support himself. He could only lean against the mirror with Mo Lingnan’s support, his voice still raspy despite the lozenges: "Uncle Mo... Director Mo... wuwu..."

Mo Lingnan shook his head: "Wrong."

Lu Tingchao stiffened, then let out a few low sobs: "Wrong, wrong, call you husband, call you husband, wuwu..."

Mo Lingnan finally pulled him into a gentle, cherished embrace, soothing his hurried and ragged breaths, and kissing away the tears covering his face.

Mo Lingnan said: "Sweetheart... good boy, Chao Chao, your husband loves you."

*

Perhaps a man who's had his fill is easier to reason with.

Lu Tingchao changed into clothes that covered his neck, washed up cleanly, and headed out.

Since Lu Tingchao wouldn’t be home tonight, Mo Lingnan simply took Lu Doudou to stay at the company, exuding a certain charm of a father-son duo embarking on a new era of business empire.

Lu Tingchao carried his suitcase, pinched Lu Doudou’s tender cheeks a few times, then said goodbye to the big and little ones before being dropped off by the driver a few hundred meters from the meeting point.

Lu Tingchao will always be Lu Tingchao.

He neither dared to tell Mo Lingnan he was going to film a dating show, nor did he know whether he should tell Mo Lingnan he’d hired Su Ningyu as an assistant.

But Lu Tingchao would always dare to do such things secretly, on the sly.

Sneaking across the street, Lu Tingchao spotted Su Ningyu waiting at the entrance of the café.

It was around three in the afternoon, the sun beating down fiercely, scorching every inch of the ground. The streets were almost empty, and only a small patch of shade offered relief in front of the café.

Not nearly enough to cover Su Ningyu’s tall stature.

The boy’s worn white shirt had faded to yellow and was soaked through with sweat under the sun, clinging tightly to his body.

His refined features and skin were flushed red from the heat.

Lu Tingchao was taken aback and quickly hurried over: "Why didn’t you wait inside the café? You could've just ordered a drink or something."

"It's fine, it's the same out here."

Su Ningyu smiled at Lu Tingchao and reached out to take his suitcase. "Shall we go now?"

Up close, it was clear that Su Ningyu’s originally fair skin had been sunburned and was peeling.

Lu Tingchao blurted out without thinking: "You weren't… either reluctant or unable to afford a drink, were you?"

Su Ningyu’s upright posture seemed to stiffen slightly. A moment of awkward embarrassment crossed his face before he bit his lip, straightened up, and insisted stubbornly: "No."

Lu Tingchao: "..."

For a moment, Lu Tingchao felt like such a capitalist jerk.

He felt a bit awkward and after a moment’s thought said: "Forget it, let me treat you to a drink. We can sit for a while before heading out."

But Su Ningyu remained firm: "I'm fine."

Lu Tingchao: "...I'm not. I'm tired."

With all the airs of a young master, Lu Tingchao turned and pushed open the café door to step inside.

Su Ningyu paused for a few seconds, watching Lu Tingchao from behind before finally picking up the suitcase and following him in.

Lu Tingchao’s ordering style was always willful and casual.

He found the largest table in the shop and gestured at the menu: "One of each of these juices, iced, and some desserts too—Mango Pomelo Sago, black glutinous rice... and two matcha lemon basques."

The staff hesitated: "Um... for just the two of you, this might be a bit too much."

Lu Tingchao was used to Zhuang Ji finishing his leftovers and said without thinking: "Ah, it's fine, if I can't finish, he'll eat..."

Lu Tingchao suddenly realized the person sitting across from him wasn’t Zhuang Ji.

And perhaps never would be again.

Some say memories are collections of moments.

For once, Lu Tingchao hesitated and fell silent, tentatively and carefully looking at Su Ningyu: "If I can't finish... you'll eat it, right?"

"Mm."

Su Ningyu nodded at Lu Tingchao. "It's okay. Whatever you don’t like, I'll eat it. Don’t worry."

Lu Tingchao felt relieved: "Good, good, you’re the best brother ever!"

The desserts arrived, nearly covering the entire table.

Lu Tingchao never had great table manners. He picked and nibbled here and there like a very unqualified hamster, then pushed the table away familiarly: "Mmm, not tasty."

Su Ningyu dutifully polished off everything that was left, then looked at Lu Tingchao as if seeming to hesitate to speak: "Teacher Lu, your neck..."

Lu Tingchao leaned in: "Huh?"

Su Ningyu held out a finger, as if to touch but keeping some space: "There's a mark on your neck, should we cover it up…"

Lu Tingchao paused, then checked his phone.

Probably because of the heat, the spot that was reddish this morning had spread, and at a glance, it looked like a big, suspicious-looking mark.

Lu Tingchao: "..."

Ugh, that awful guy!

He couldn’t let himself be filmed like this, so Lu Tingchao had no choice but to tugged on Su Ningyu’s sleeve for help: "There’s cover-up in my bag, like foundation and things, could you put some on for me? I can’t see it."

Su Ningyu nodded, came over from opposite him to sit beside Lu Tingchao, then dug out the big makeup bag: "This one?"

"This one."

Lu Tingchao hesitated a bit, "Do you know how to use it?"

Su Ningyu: "I watched some tutorials carefully a couple of days ago. I think I can manage, come on, tilt your head up."

Lu Tingchao obediently lifted his chin.

His neck was beautiful, the classic swan neck, sleek, so slender it looked like you could circle it with one hand.

It looked like it would fit perfectly in someone’s grip.

So fragile, almost pitiful.

It made you want to just take control.

Su Ningyu opened the foundation and reached for the concealer. He didn’t bother with a puff, instead dabbed gently with his fingertips.

As he tugged the collar down, more of his fair, honey-toned skin showed, revealing marks that spoke of decadence, invasion, and roughness.

Not Zhuang Ji.

But another man.

Left there without a care.

Su Ningyu’s fingers made contact with the soft skin, and was met with a soft, sharp gasp.

He kept his fingers there, as if concerned: "Did that hurt?"

"It’s fine..."

Lu Tingchao was known for being delicate; he pouted unhappily, "Well, it’s bruised, so yeah, it hurts. It’s not your fault, go ahead."

Su Ningyu gently, slowly rubbed, over and over.

If someone else were present to look, you wouldn’t see any foundation on that flushed area, only fingerprints, some light, some deep.

Lu Tingchao was rubbed until it felt swollen and sore, his eyes welling up: "Su Ningyu, it hurts... you almost done?"

"Not yet, Teacher Lu."

The male college student’s expression was like he was working out a tough calculus problem or conducting some kind of experiment, "Chin up a bit more, Teacher Lu."

Lu Tingchao obediently obliged: "Okay."

Su Ningyu working on him: "Can you pull your shirt down a little more?"

Lu Tingchao: "But the collar’s pretty tight... this enough?"

Su Ningyu: "No problem, I can get it, Teacher Lu."

The male college student’s other hand also came up, grazed his skin, then as if accidentally brushing past Lu Tingchao’s lips.

They felt really soft.

Just as harmless as he was.

"Sorry, Teacher Lu."

Su Ningyu said, "Just hang in there a bit longer, it’s almost done."

Lu Tingchao didn’t think twice about it; his neck was tired from tilting, and he instinctively leaned forward slightly, then quickly realized it looked too much like he was curling into Su Ningyu’s arms.

Ah... can’t tarnish the innocence of this male college student.

Lu Tingchao endured the soreness and urged again: "Is it done?"

Su Ningyu finally spread a layer of concealer: "Almost, very soon, very soon."

Lu Tingchao was almost falling asleep, he forced his eyelids open: "...By the way, Su Ningyu, how old are you?"

"Nineteen, a junior."

Lu Tingchao nodded like a pecking chick, softly: "Oh... by then I’d already been married for two years."

Su Ningyu lowered his gaze.

Lu Tingchao stumbled over his words: "Eh, no... I’m not married."

Su Ningyu finally tapped the marked area: "Done, Teacher Lu."

Lu Tingchao rubbed his eyes, took a sip of the ice water in front of him, and barely perked up: "Alright then, let’s go."

*

Beicheng and Haishi aren’t too far apart.

As night began to spread, Lu Tingchao finally arrived at the long-missed "Love Cottage."

The exterior and panoramic shots were almost all done, with the last two episodes focusing mostly on dates and indoor scenes.

Lu Tingchao had already informed the director of his approximate arrival time, so Su Ningyu parked the car outside the villa through the security system.

Under the faint, hazy lights along the path, the newly bloomed roses of various colors were dazzlingly beautiful, complemented by the beach lights in different tones, creating a dreamy and chaotic atmosphere.

Su Ningyu walked ahead carrying Lu Tingchao’s suitcase, while Lu Tingchao trailed behind, kicking along the soft sand, casually picking up a few small shells.

And at the end of the path.

A figure pushed the door open.

He was almost the same height as Su Ningyu, except Su Ningyu’s white shirt was old and yellowish, while the other wore the latest high-fashion resort-style shirt.

The streetlights illuminated the path ahead.

Lu Tingchao locked eyes with the person who seemed to have been waiting for a long time.

"You made it?"

Perhaps because he had spent some time in the mainland, his Mandarin had improved a bit, no longer as stiff as before.

However, his gaze toward Su Ningyu was disdainful and unrelenting. After just a glance, his eyes settled back again on Lu Tingchao.

"BB, you're walking so carefully—are you in pain somewhere?"

Fei Xiuqi's expression was unfathomable. "Or did someone take advantage of my absence to fill you up?"

He took a couple of steps closer. "Was it this little duck? Or some other stray?"